


Racetrack

by AnananaSensei



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 11:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9322241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnananaSensei/pseuds/AnananaSensei
Summary: After the events of KOTFE/KOTET, Smuggler Cyra Asola winds up in an offworld cantina, like always. Unexpectedly, she ends up seeing an old friend, but he doesn't recognize her. This story is supposed to be a metaphorical symbol of the cliche phrase "mind racing," which you'll see represents Cyra's inner thoughts.





	

My mind was a race track, and I was the speeder driving around the designated track of my mind. I wanted to run away from the thoughts that haunted me, but the track was oval shaped. As I got farther away from the possibility of forgetting, I instantly started racing right back. I was going too fast to stop myself, and pushing on the brake was hopeless. Accelerate. Accelerate. Accelerate. Until I was going around the track in an instant, and I lost control of my speeder. Spinning around in endless circles, out of control. 

There he was. Standing only several yards away. So close after so long. I never thought I’d see him so unexpectedly. 

I wanted to scream or shout for help. Anything to stop the spinning, and the loss of control over my speeder, but I was alone. No one could hear me in the depths of my mind.

I stepped forward. One step at a time, I walked closer and closer to him, forcing myself to confront him after all these years. What would he say? How would he react? The sick I felt in my stomach was enough to make me feel dizzy. Was I nervous or excited? I didn’t know, and I didn’t have time to figure it out. The man sitting at the bar of the cantina was in front of me now. I tapped on his shoulder, trying to break my hesitation

Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. 

“Hey,” I mustered up the confidence for a single insignificant word.

The man turned to face me, obviously a little tipsy. He gave me an odd stare, as I took in his aged features. It had been what? Almost seven or eight years since I last saw him. Not to my surprise, he looked almost the same, give or a take a couple new scars, but he had this new look about him. Something mature. Something that told me he had been through a lot. Experienced something...painful. 

“Do I know you?” the man slurred his words.

Spinning. Circles. Crashing into a wall. The smell of motor fuel became evident. Burning? Was my speeder on fire? 

My heart felt like it had been thrown across the room, punched and kicked, and then shot three times for good measure. 

“You don’t...You don’t recognize me?” I barely breathed out. I was shaking something fierce. I could feel my hands moving without my command at my side. 

“No, I’m sorry, m’am. Am I supposed to? When did we meet?” The man’s words became less slurred. He seemed genuinely concerned. 

Flames had indeed engulfed my vehicle. I screamed and shouted. Still no one came. The flames crept closer and closer, smoke filling my lungs. I gasped for air. I tried accelerating, thinking maybe I could kill the fire with speed, but the speeder didn’t budge, for it was lodged in the wall of the track. Rain fell down on the track. Hard and heavy. I could hear it echo off the pavement. Ironically, the rain only made the flames more aggressive, as if the rain was fueling the fire instead of putting it out for good. 

I could feel the tears puddling in my eyes. How did he not remember me? Was he that drunk he wouldn’t recognize his own wife? Or was he so lost in the grief of my supposed passing, that I was unrecognizable to the eye?

“Many, many years ago. We were crewmates on the same ship. Friends.” The tears ran down my face without control.

“I-I don’t remember that,” he mumbled. “I’m really sorry. Do you-do you want to talk about it? Can I do anything to help you?” He seemed flustered. My crying must have made him feel bad and uncomfortable.

I shook my head. I wasn’t going to leave myself like this. 

“I’ve known you for what seems like a lifetime. I was married to you. We said our vows on my very own ship. A beauty of an XS Freighter. You were and are the only man I care about. How can you not remember me?” Desperately, my words came out trying to reach him in some way. I sobbed uncontrollably, falling to the ground next to his bar stool and holding my head in my hands.

The rain froze in the air. The flames stopped. It was only me who could move now, and all I could do was curl up in the driver’s seat and sob.

The man bent down next to me, reluctantly setting his hand on my shoulder. His sad attempt to comfort me, soothed me. I stopped bawling, and for whatever reason started laughing like some crazy person. I wiped the remnants of tears from eyes, not allowing any more to fall out. 

“I am so sorry to waste your time,” I smiled apologetically, my bloodshot eyes not meeting his. I stood up and wiped the dust from my pants with a single sniffle. He stood up next to me, and I could feel his eyes on me. To my surprise he wasn’t looking at me like I was crazy, he looked like he was contemplating something. Analyzing my face looking for a sign of recognition that wasn’t there. 

“I should go,” I muttered. “Again, I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” I started to turn away, but before I actually moved my feet, I made a decision that would save my life. I grabbed a hold of his jacket, and pulled him down to my lips. It was a decision that by far caught him off guard, but to my surprise he kissed me back almost as quick as I had made the move. There was no sign of hesitation in the way he caressed my face with his calloused hands, rubbing his thumbs against my cheeks. I wrapped my arms around his neck, not wanting to let him go. 

Suddenly, I tasted something salty and wet. Tears were running down into my lips, but I wasn’t crying anymore. The man who swore he didn’t know me was crying. He made no sound, just pushed me in closer, removing his hands from my face and placing them around my hips. 

The rain once again fell down on the track, but lighter. The flames from my speeder were gone. I wasn’t alone anymore. The man was with me, right next to me in the passenger seat. He placed his hands on the steering wheel, right on top of mine. He looked me dead in the eye as my mind faded into reality. 

“Cyra,” he whispered, pulling away from my lips. “It’s you it’s really you.”

“Corso?” I let out a sigh of relief. 

“I never should have believed you were really gone,” he confessed. I stood on the tops of my toes, and I gave him a strong embrace. He picked me up and spun me around, hugging me tightly. 

“I missed you a hell of a lot,” I chuckled lightly, as he set me down on the ground. 

“I missed you a hell of a lot more,” he beamed.


End file.
